


juggernaut

by orca_mandaeru



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Assassin Choi San, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Violence, Felching, M/M, Minor Character Death, Porn With Plot, san in a corset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: Yunho lives a normal life now. He has pretty good self-control, he thinks, enough to stay away from the dangerous life he once lead. Until he meets Choi San.
Relationships: Choi San/Jeong Yunho
Comments: 16
Kudos: 199





	juggernaut

Yunho doesn’t know why he’s here. Even though he’s wearing the same kind of tight, layered fancy dress as everyone else here, he’s sure he sticks out like a sore thumb. Young nobles and merchants’ children stroll the dance floor, backs straight and limbs held with stiff, elegant poise. Their parents line the sides of the building, masking their underhanded negotiations with flowery words and smiles. 

There are a couple prominent ship captains weaving through the crowd, some stray inventors, but they all have medals littered across their suit jackets, carry themselves as well as any of the others from decades of recognition. 

And then here Yunho is, skin itching nearly unbearably under the heavy leather and silk of his formal outfit, back to the wall and hands clasped behind his back, rocking forward and back on the balls of his feet as he tries to avoid eye contact with anyone. It’s strange, how easily conversation comes to him in the belly of a ship, the heat of a furnace and unrestrained laughter warming him through. Here, he can’t even muster the energy to open his mouth or take a step forward. 

This is one of the many reasons why he left the organization. To make it there you need more than just skill, hard work, and dedication, you needed all of that as well as a certain brand of intelligence. Yunho likes to think that he’s a pretty sharp-minded guy, but he comes nowhere close to the constant scheming and strategy that successful assassins have. 

Yunho is fine with a normal life, working a common job and making friends without the stench of death following him everywhere. Yeah, he misses it sometimes, remembering the heady rush of adrenaline through his veins and the utter triumph of a job well done. But ultimately, the risk was greater than the reward. 

As if summoned by the thought, a familiar face appears in the periphery of Yunho’s vision. Oh. He doesn’t know how to feel. What are the chances of someone from his past showing up like this, the one time he attends an event like this? Yunho acts like he doesn’t see him until Hongjoong is right in front of him, boldly reaching up and tilting Yunho’s chin up to look at him. 

Yunho hasn’t seen him in years, back when both of them had been trainees fighting for a solid place and value in the organization. Hongjoong looks good, draped in fabric glittering with jewels, chains dangling from his ears and bottom lip. Past his outer appearance, the way he carries himself is so different, leagues more confident. Yunho’s eyes linger on all the folds of fabric around his waist, wondering how many weapons are stored away there. 

“Hongjoong.” Yunho says plainly. They were friends back then, but this is now. There’s a significant chance that Hongjoong is here to kill him. Obviously following his train of thought, Hongjoong giggles and raises his hand to daintily cover his mouth as if he’s a perfect, elegant noble and not a creature made up of bloodlust and desperation and cunning. 

“Jeong Yunho. It’s been years, hasn’t it?” 

Yunho shifts as Hongjoong looks him up and down, too slowly. This is certainly one aspect of the job Hongjoong has absolutely nailed in the years since they’ve seen each other, the ability to leave your real self at home and slide into any persona necessary. Yunho’s seen the real Hongjoong once upon a time, a teenager with too much spite and not enough resources to fulfill it, plagued by the same fears and flaws as all the other trainees. 

Right now, Hongjoong is nearly indistinguishable from the young heirs around him who were raised in the lap of luxury, all fluttering eyelashes and saccharine words. The fakeness is disconcerting, but Yunho can still see through it, if only barely. He doesn’t relax, but lightens up on the vigilance a little. If Hongjoong was going to kill him, he would be dead before he knew what hit him. 

Yunho smiles genially, sticking his hands in his pockets and feeling himself settle down a little now that he’s got something to focus on. “Yeah, it’s been a while, huh? What brings you here?” He’s expecting them to continue on speaking through veiled metaphors and implications, but instead Hongjoong laughs, wide enough that his gums show. 

“I’m on a job, of course. But I won’t be the one getting my hands dirty tonight, that’s going to my new little subordinate.” Hongjoong’s posture has relaxed into something comfortable and natural, phasing out of the stilf body language. He must be telling the truth then, he would never even slightly hint at compromising his disguise if he were really working. 

Yunho crosses his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. “You, with an apprentice? They must be pretty special.” He’s curious, but it’s more of an off-hand question than anything, still on guard. He’s not expecting the absolutely gleeful glint that reflects back at him in Hongjoong’s eyes, a catlike smile spreading over his face. 

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” Hongjoong says, pointing discreetly into the crowd. “That’s him there, you see? In the red shorts.”

Yunho follows Hongjoong’s line of sight, finally settling on… oh. He swallows, throat suddenly a little dry. There might be the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen, and that’s saying something. 

Shorts is not exactly the best descriptor for what the man is wearing, ruffles of cream fabric shifting around his legs, only occasionally moving enough to show flashes of tiny bright red shorts connected to knee-high heeled boots with delicate lace garters. And that’s not even getting into the sleek silver corset hugging his thin waist, more ruffles sitting right under his collarbones and on his shoulders. His features are all sharp lines and edges, a contained smile settled on his face as he maintains direct eye contact with the pompous young nobleman he’s speaking to. 

Hongjoong elbows Yunho, smirking at the way he’s blatantly drooling. “What’s his name?” Yunho asks, not bothering to keep up any sort of pretense. 

Hongjoong doesn’t answer directly, leaning closer and shielding their faces with his hand. “Take a walk with me? I hear the gardens here are quite nice.” 

Yunho eyes him before nodding slowly. Whatever Hongjoong’s planning, he wants to know, whether this is just a little game or something that will completely change his life. No one really notices them slip away, but Yunho swears he can feel the sharp gaze of a particular assassin on his back. 

The garden is nice, really, expertly trimmed hedges and a veritable maze of various flower types, arranged by color. What Yunho’s paying attention to is the way the bushes block the view from the mansion. You could do anything back there and no one would see or even hear over the din of the party. 

He and Hongjoong make light, inane small talk as they progress further into the flower maze, not acknowledging anything they brought up earlier. Yunho knows that this isn’t going nowhere, that Hongjoong must have a point with all this, but he’s getting unusually impatient, can’t stop thinking about that other assassin. 

FInally, Hongjoong stops walking, twirling on his heel and looking distinctly craftly. Yunho raises an eye at him, unamused, and Hongjoong rolls his eyes. He gestures vaguely towards the side of the mansion they’re up against, the elegantly carved shutters outlining the window beneath. “You’re welcome,” is all Hongjoong says before he starts back towards the garden exit without a backwards glance. 

Yunho frowns at his receding figure, looking back towards the window. At least he’s getting the feeling that this isn’t official business or anything, with how flippant Hongjoong is being. The only obvious thing here is the shuttered window, so Yunho feels around at the seam of the wiid, getting a firm grip and pulling just a little. 

It creaks open just a little, enough for Yunho to crouch down and awkwardly wedge himself into a vantage point to peek through the bit of exposed glass. Oh. 

There’s two figures against the opposite wall of the room, not completely clear but obviously wrapped up in each other. Yunho’s wondering why in the world Hongjoong wanted him to see this when he catches a glimpse of bright red, hot trepidation settling deep in his gut. 

The couple move against each other, and then the larger man is pushed into the lamplight, a slick smile visible on his face as he falls backwards onto the ornate, wide couch. The assassin sways towards him fabric swishing over his mostly-bare legs. His grin is a little bit too wide and sharp, but the man on the bed doesn’t seem to notice. 

Yunho holds his breath, frozen still as he watches the scene play out. The assassin laughs lightly, his eyes crinkling up and twinkling with a strange type of intense energy as he settles down on the nobleman’s lap. Every one of his movements are smooth and calculated in their sensuality, playfully pushing the man he’s on back flat against the bed. The man still looks totally comfortable and eager as the assassin’s pretty hands dance up his chest, wrapping delicately around his neck. 

Yunho couldn’t tear his eyes away if he wanted to, admiring the way the assassin’s sweet smile stays on his face as he tightens his grip, showing more teeth as the man under him starts to struggle. He looks positively gleeful as the man under him’s movements slowly start to falter, visibly reeling himself in before he kills the man right there and then. 

The assassin smoothly moves off the bed, manhandling the nearly-unconscious noble into the lone chair in the room, efficiently tying him back with rope fished out from his myriad ruffles. Looking like the cat that got the cream, smirk curling over his pretty lips, the assassin rocks back on his heels and smacks the noble right across the face. 

Yunho can’t see his entire face but can still almost taste the shock and horror on the poor target’s face as the assassin pulls out a wicked-looking knife from under his corset. Yunho’s honestly starting to feel uncomfortable with something far from fear from watching the way this stranger moves, competent without losing an ounce of concentrated flair. He still doesn’t dare move, to prevent both getting caught and making the tightness of his already restrictive pants even worse. 

The hit is really panicking now, mouth working and blubbering around the crude gag and pulling weakly at the bonds. It’s pretty obvious that he’s never been in an actually dangerous or even strenuous situation before, hopelessly out of his depth. The assassin tuts, resting a finger innocently on his chin, staring calmly down at his victim. Yunho saw plenty of professional assassins in his time in the industry, people the absolute epitome of lethal beauty and charm, but no one ever had this effect on him, this type of effortless confidence. 

The assassin proceeds to beat the absolute shit out of the bound man. A small part of Yunho can’t help but catalogue in the back of his mind exactly what he’s doing, the placement and amount of power put into that kick to the gut. All the rest of him is just trying to keep down the increasing fire in his blood as he watches. Did Hongjoong show him here just to torture him with what he can’t have? 

He can’t hear what the assassin is saying, only see his mouth moving. Yunho stares closer, trying to make out the words, when those bright eyes calmly slide over to make direct, knowing eye contact with him. Fuck. Yunho is still frozen where he is, eyes probably wide like a deer in the headlights as that piercing gaze shoots right through him. 

The contact is kept as a smug smile spreads across the assassin’s face, staring Yunho down as he casually slams the victim's head back against the chair. Yunho wants, so fucking much. It feels like this stranger is staring through him down to his very bones, scanning over the contents of his insides as he casually does his job. 

Finally tearing his eyes away with a little wink, the assassin props a booted leg up on the arm of the chair and leans in close to the poor man, tilting his chin up with the blade of his dagger and murmuring something indiscernible to him. The man in the chair looks utterly defeated by whatever message the assassin wants to send him off with, blood dripping down his face as he’s mostly untied. 

The assassin stays with his back turned to the window, but tilts his head towards where Yunho is hiding, something that might be a wink happening too quickly to clearly see before he’s dusting his hands and out the door in a swish of creamy fabric and scarlet silk. 

~~~

“Hey, Yunho! Hello, anyone there?” 

Yunho blinks at Wooyoung, who’s leaning dangerously far forward off his perch on top of one of the engine thrusters, hand waving in front of Yunho’s face and eyebrows raised. Yunho laughs and rubs the back of his head. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and leans back, swinging his legs like a kid. “Dude, you’ve been pretty out of it lately, ever since Captain dragged you to that stupid party. Did something happen?”

Yunho shakes his head absently, grip tightening around his heavy metal shovel and resuming his job, the heavy weight of glowing trunium fuel on his shovel, the comfortingly familiar heat of the gaping open engine fuel tank. Did something happen. How the fuck could he ever encompass what happened last week? No matter how much he tries to distract himself, he can’t stop thinking about it. About him. 

He still doesn’t know what Hongjoong’s intentions in leading them together was. Was it just to show off how good his apprentice is? Some sort of warning? Whatever it was meant to be, he’s caught hook, line, and sinker. It’s not like he could tell any of this to Wooyoung or any of his other friends from his normal life. That’s one of the main downfalls really, that he can never talk about his past, for their own safety. 

“No, no, just the regular. I really don’t know why he keeps taking me along.” Yunho finally settles on saying, smiling casually and hoping his old acting classes will help him out. Wooyoung stares at him for a second, then shrugs and huffs. 

“You know how paranoid he is. Thinks there’s an assassin or something around every corner. I don’t know why, I really doubt any organization would be interested in us.” 

Yunho laughs nervously, turning his attention and eyes back to his work. 

~~~

Nights are always strange, in the belly of the huge airship. The residual glow from the trunium coats him from head to toe from long hours of hard work in the engine room, casting a faint green glow around him that clashes and melds with the warm tones of the lamps. His sturdy boots are too loud against the metal ship frame, making him acutely aware of the emptiness of the hallways. It still isn’t quiet, though, the ever-present hum of the engines that Yunho himself keeps going vibrating through the entire frame. 

Sometimes it feels like this is the only way he can keep himself peaceful, working out all his extra energy through hard labor and letting the heartbeat of the ship lull him into a calm he only ever previously experienced with the metallic tang of blood in the air and all over him. 

Most of the ship’s crew work on the floors far above, keeping the finer technology on the ship running, taking care of all the other odd jobs needed to support a couple score of people on a long journey. At this time of night, it’s really only Yunho, Wooyoung, and Mingi down here, and Yunho knows for sure that the other two are asleep. 

That’s why he’s immediately on guard when he hears the soft, barely audible sounds of footsteps echoing through the belly of the ship. The untrained ear wouldn’t be able to pick up on it at all, but Yunho knows what a human trying to be silent sounds like, especially right here in the place he knows like the back of his hand. 

He stops in his tracks, just listening as the soft footsteps creep closer and closer. He’s not sure exactly what he’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t the assassin from last week boldly just strolling down this hallway like he belongs. His appearance is almost the total opposite of the last time he saw him, covered in a baggy shiphand uniform, flat brown cap pulled low over his eyes. 

It’s quite a feat that he’s managed to make himself look so unassuming, blending in pretty successfully. His body language is totally different as well, casual but relaxed, mimicking the way a worker on a job determinedly stalks through the ship. He’s not looking at Yunho, but the corner of his mouth is twitching just slightly.

In the split second after he comes into view, Yunho wallows in indecision over what to do. On one hand, there’s that burning need he can’t really explain to get closer to this man, hear for himself what his voice sounds like, how he got to this place in life. On the other hand, if he’s here, he’s almost definitely here for a job. And Yunho may not really get involved in the organization’s business anymore, but he cares about the friends he’s made in this new life. No matter how entrancing this assassin is, he’d do anything to stop him if he was targeting one of his friends. 

He straightens up, trying to seem at least a little bit casual as he subtly takes up more space in the hallway. “Didn’t catch your name the last time we met.”

The assassin slows to a stop, raising his head. Direct contact at this close a distance is almost breathtaking, his eyes sharp and piercing even without the bold makeup. He quirks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow and pulling off a genuinely convincing look of confusion. “Oh, have we met?” He doesn’t wait for Yunho’s response, smiling wide and bowing. “Choi San, at your service. I’m just a hand helping out in the artillery room, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,…?” 

“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, hearing himself sound as absent as he feels right now. God, he wants nothing more to keep talking. It's almost worrying how compromised he is just from a pretty voice, but he forces himself to think back on his priorities. The air between them is tense and heavy with too much knowledge and not enough action for a second, the ship humming under their feet and soft golden light casting shadows over Choi San’s angled face. 

Yunho feels like an army of ants are dancing across his skin, knowing that even though he doesn’t look like it, San is combing over him with a laser gaze, cataloguing all the information he can glean from him. Yunho tries to ignore it and musters up the effort to just say what he needs to. “San, I know what you’re here for. Please, just tell me, who is it?”

San stills, almost unnaturally so, staring curiously at Yunho like he’s searching for his true intentions in his face. It’s only now occurring to Yunho that he doesn’t know how much San knows about him, if Hongjoong even told him that he knows Yunho or just sent him out here to tease him. If San thinks he’s just a normal guy, what must be going through his head right now? Proper protocol is to make sure there’s no one with the ability to communicate around to compromise their job, but in all honesty, that unspoken rule is very often ignored even by professionals. 

The organization was big enough, rich enough, had their hands in too many pots and ruling powers to be really threatened. 

But it would still be a risk for a rookie like San to compromise security like that. Yunho holds his breath and waits. 

“Yoon Taesong. Know him?”

Yunho closes his eyes, breath whooshing out of him in relief. He smiles wide and relaxed, body language shifting, focusing more on the man in front of him. “Nope.” He makes it very clear that he doesn’t care what San does to that stranger, and San pauses, staring at him with an unguarded expression, the first little hint of genuinity he’s seen from the assassin so far. 

San’s eyes rake him up and down yet again, this time more personal, easy heat seeping into his gaze. “See you around, Jeong Yunho.” 

Yunho shivers, feeling the spike of heat down to his very bones. San tugs his cap down over his eyes and turns on his heels, stalking away down the dim hall. 

~~~

Yunho can’t help but wonder, nearly half an hour later, if this is it. If this second meeting was just a bizarre coincidence and they’ll never see each other again after now. He doesn’t know why he’s so incredibly drawn to this man; frankly, it’s a bit concerning. It’s all he thinks about as he goes through the motions of his nightly routine, methodically checking over all the machinery he’s in charge of. 

RIght in the middle of his thoughts, he comes to a full stop, going totally quiet. Something’s off, he can feel it in his gut. There’s nothing to indicate that something’s wrong, but Yunho’s learned to trust his intuition over the years. It’s never been wrong before. He stays deathly still, ears perked until he hears it, an extremely faint but there yell. 

Yunho runs, through the metal chambers and ladder to the second-most bottom floor of the ship, following the sound where he knows something’s happening. He barely even notices that he’s taken along the heavy fuel shovel he was just using, climbing up the network of ladders and small hallways to the second floor rooms he knows the target works in. 

He rounds a last corner and stops dead in his tracks, taking in the scene. His eyes are immediately drawn to San, splayed out on the floor, hands rubbing at his eyes, covered in ash. The worker, Yoon Taesong, is standing over him, handfuls of dust falling from his palms. Logically, Yunho knows that San can definitely take care of himself, is more than likely bluffing right now. 

But Yunho’s not thinking logically right now. This is why he could never have gotten far in the organization, this irrational red fog of bloodlust that takes control of him. Before he quite knows what he’s doing, Yunho’s wielding the shovel with complete familiarity, putting all his strength into a full-bodied swing. The sick thud of connection is so fucking satisfying, too much so, sending a euphoric amount of adrenaline shooting through Yunho’s veins. 

He can feel the flesh and bone giving under the blow, the man dropping to the ground like a stone. He’s still alive even though one side of his head is covered in blood, desperately trying to crawl away. Yunho stares down at him. He could step back now, probably should. That’s not what he does. 

His eyes never leave the figure crumpled on the ground, brain totally offline as he strides forward again, captured in a singular type of focus as he prepares to swing again. He doesn’t notice that San has stopped moving, eyes clean and wide open as he stares at what’s playing out in front of him. Yunho’s muscles strain as he raises the heavy metal over his head as if he was chopping wood, momentum gaining as it plummets through the air. 

A disgusting crunch and the man’s skull caves in, flesh and bone giving out and blood sludging out onto the floor. Yunho stares at the scene, chest moving in and out as his brain starts to clear a little. His skin and veins are still tingling with energy, dimly registering the blood dripping down his shovel has reached his hands. He takes one halting step back, blinking himself out of it. His movements are still slow, gaze traveling over to the other figure in the room and starting, rushing over to kneel down in front of San. 

He makes a movement to touch the residual dirt on San’s cheek, thinking better of it halfway through, awkwardly letting it dangle by his side. “You okay?” 

The assassin’s eyes are still wide and unguarded, something honest in them as he swallows and stares at all of Yunho, eyes combing over the blood smeared on his hands, up to the way his arms fit in his tight shirt, up to Yunho’s earnest face. He swallows visibly and shakes his head, confident expression falling back over his face like a shutter. “Yeah, I’m fine. You know I was just pretending, right? I had it under control.”

Yunho huffs out a laugh and rubs the back of his neck, settling back on the heels of his feet, glancing at the still-warm corpse. “Yeah, sorry… I got a little carried away.” The absolute absurdity of this situation compared to the completely normal life he’s been living for the past few years does not escape him, but he can’t seem to care. 

He’s just sitting here in silence with a near-stranger, and it should be awkward. Instead, it’s strangely relaxing. San fiddles with a brass button on his sleeve, glancing at Yunho out of the corner of his eye. “You’re awfully calm about this.”

Yunho leans back on his palms and smiles, studying the features of the man across from him. He must still not know. “Ah, I guess Hongjoong didn’t tell you. I knew him when we were trainees together, before I left.”

San can’t mask the curiosity in his eyes as he leans slightly closer. “Really? What was he like back then?” 

Yunho takes a while to think about his answer. San seems to be around the same age as him, but he’s an apprentice, so he must have been in the organization for only a few years. Totally different from the way Yunho was adopted into the organization at fifteen years old, meeting a young Hongjoong with a singular type of raw determination, messy anger and sadness and no way to let it out. 

They had stuck together back then, just them against the cruel world figuring out a way to make it through, learning from and teaching each other along the way. It seems so distant in the past now. By the time they parted they had grown apart considerably, the immaturity, fear of vulnerability and hidden pasts too much of a wedge for long-lasting connection. 

Yunho wonders if they could foster that kind of connection now, as adults. He doesn’t really know how to put all of that into words, though so he just cocks his head and says, “Determined, that’s a good way to put it.” It’s not adequate, but San seems to understand, laughing loud and squeaky. Yunho can’t take his eyes off of him. 

It seems like San’s gaze is always that intense, with the way he’s staring again. Yunho waits for him to speak up. “So you’re a good fighter, right? I’ve been trying to beat him for years now.” 

Yunho smiles. For the first year or two after they had met, Yunho had always won against Hongjoong, since he had more experience, size and strength. That only made Hongjoong more determined, of course, figuring out all the ways to trip up a larger opponent until he could confidently take on someone twice his size. He wonders how well he’s taught San. “I’m pretty good, I’d say. Out of practice, though. Pretty messy, as you could probably tell,” he says, glancing at the body. 

San fidgets some more, looking like a kitten with ears perked up. His smile has that now-familiar edge to it, an almost feral energy. Yunho’s cheeks feel hot with the way San stares at his figure. “Can we fight then? I want to see if I’ll win.” 

Well. Yunho can’t deny that’s an incredibly appealing thought, testing out how much strength is packed away in that slender figure, all that raw energy up close and personal… yeah, that’s a lot. He swallows, hands curling into loose fists at his sides. Really, he just needs something to distract him for a couple seconds as he calms himself down a little, so he shows his blood-spattered hands. “Let me just wash my hands first.” 

Thankfully, this room is one of the bigger engineering chambers, fully equipped with shelves of tools and supplies and sinks lining one wall. Yunho gets up slowly and pointedly doesn’t look at San behind him. the adrenaline in his body is moving on to the next stage, making his skin feel hot and tight all over. It's even worse since San is right there, drawing his eyes and his thoughts wandering to dangerous places. 

It’s been so long since he felt this way, this powerful. He doesn’t regret leaving the organization in the slightest, he was an absolute loose cannon, but. he cant deny the appeal of going back to the world he's been embroiled in for more than half of his life. The cool water pouring out over his hands is comforting, clearing his mind just a little bit. He’ll need the clarity if he wants to fight San, he knows. He’s got a feeling the other will be crafty and unexpected. 

Yunho takes a deep breath and dries his hands on a spare rag, bracing himself as he turns around. San is leaned back against the floor, limbs sprawled out with total confidence as he eyes Yunho up, one eyebrow slightly raised. Fuck, he’s so goddamn beautiful. He can already tell that even if this is the last time they ever meet, it’ll be a long time before he can forget.

San stands up, his movements fluid and assured, everything for a reason. He rolls up his sleeves casually. He bows showily, imitating uncannily well the manners of the upper class, barely able to hide his anticipation. “Here’s to a fair fight.” 

Yunho huffs. There’s a very high chance that this will be nothing but fair, but that’s only realistic. The best way to fight, really. In the real world, you’re not gonna have the luxury of any rules. 

San rushes him, kicking his leg out from under him and attempting to put him in a headlock. Yunho grapples with him, getting a grip on the back of his shirt and managing to pull him away and stand up. Before Yunho can catch his balance there’s something sharp and metal pressing up against his back. Instinct kicking in, Yunho twists and reaches behind him, managing to grab San’s wrist and apply pressure until the knife clatters to the floor. Making as if he’s going to go for the weapon again, San feints manages to get Yunho on the ground again, settling on his chest with hands around his throat. There’s a wild smile on his face, free and unfettered and alive. 

In the brief lull in action Yunho takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around San’s torso and flip them around, using the advantage of his weight and pressing his forearm lightly over San’s throat, adding the smallest big of pressure. San’s still smiling, eyes lidded and bright. He doesn’t seem to be too concerned that he’s losing, but Yunho suspects he was holding back a lot. They just stay like that for a long moment, the air between them crackling with tension. Yunho belatedly realizes that his other hand is holding San down by the hip, too aware of the way his palm spans nearly half the area of San’s waist. 

He swallows, throat suddenly dry. His knee shifts slightly, pressing down too close against San for comfort. Yunho’s grip has loosened considerably, and San raises his hand, not to push him away, but to drag lightly over his jaw, touch feather-light. Yunho stills, searching San’s expression for some understanding of his intentions. His grip tightens on Yunho’s jaw, pulling him forward and down. Yunho goes easily, not really capable of thinking about anything right now. 

He pauses less than an inch away from San’s lips, brain actually kicking in. “wait.” San stares at him questioningly, and Yunho tries to gather his thoughts. “Uh, are you sure about this?” he settles on, hoping his tone and expression conveys what he’s trying to say, that assassins will put on any appearances necessary if it’ll further their mission. He’s almost certain that isn’t the case with San, especially considering his lower rank and experience, but it's best to make sure. 

San’s pretty lips curl up, thumb rubbing absentmindedly over Yunho’s jaw. “Oh, more than sure,” his other hand drifts over to smooth over the sleeve covering Yunho’s arms, fingers curling loosely around his bicep. “I don't meet people like you often. You’re interesting.” 

San’s smile turns into a smirk at Yunho’s starstruck eyes, pulling him down again. It’s quiet as their lips meet, soft and firm and slow but not in any way underwhelming. San slides his hand up to the back of Yunho’s neck, dragging him closer until they’re pressed together as one. His movements are somehow aggressive and soft at the same time, leading the pace as Yunho lets him. 

Honestly, Yunho’s still trying to process this, hands hovering at San’s body underneath him. Now that their intentions are out in the open like this, it puts a whole new light on things. Yunho’s ravenous. He knows that if he really let himself go he won’t be able to hold himself back from giving in to all his desires. San is still kissing him slow and deep, nipping playfully at his lips. 

San can obviously tell that Yunho is still holding back, pulling back and looking at him questioningly. Yunho swallows and answers before he’s asked. “I--can get kind of intense,” he says. 

San stares at him, eyes wide and enraptured. Yunho distinctly feels like a piece of meat right now, in a good way. San’s voice is breathy when he responds. “You don’t have to worry about hurting me. You know I'm tougher than I look.” Yunho is about to say something else when San continues, hands smoothing over Yunho's arms. “Besides, I love it rough.”

God, this is too much. Yunho kind of wants to ask again but San is staring at him with a similar kind of hunger that he feels, and something snaps inside of him, something he’s been keeping taut and controlled for far too long. “Stop me at any time, please,” he breathes, finally just running his hands down San’s chest. He gathers both of San’s wrists in one of his hands, large palms looking comically oversized compared to thin wrists.

San squeaks in surprise as Yunho pins his hands above his head, lithe body squirming under Yunho’s weight, eyes bright and pretty lips falling open. He’s so goddamn beautiful, Yunho just wants to devour him. He sits back and admires the elegant lines of his body, the way his wide shoulders taper down to a slim waist and long legs. “Keep them here?” Yunho requests, voice a little hoarse, squeezing San’s wrists. 

San stares at him and nods, eyes wide and chest moving up and down. Yunho nods firmly and drags his hands down San’s chest, popping the buttons open as he goes. It's like unwrapping a present, more and more inches of skin visible at every one. Once he gets to the bottom Yunho gently pushes the fabric away from his torso, staring hungrily down at him. There’s scars smattered across him, as is the case with most assassins, evidence of his experience and prowess. His body is slim but toned, the shadows of wiry muscle visible along his frame. Fuck, his waist really is that small, the shape of him just begging to be pushed around and picked up. 

Yunho leaves that as a treat for himself, first paying attention to San’s defined collarbones, leaning down and licking flat over the skin. He groans quietly as he finally gets to sink his teeth into San’s pretty neck, letting his teeth scrape hard over the skin. San is making breathy little noises above him, voice stuck high in his throat, absolutely adorable and fucking hot at the same time. 

Hungry for more of those sweet little sounds, Yunho kisses his way down his chest, glancing up to meet San’s molten gaze as he wraps his lips around his nipple, laving his tongue around the pink skin. San’s body shudders so wonderfully under his palms, so sensitive that he twitches slightly at every touch. Yunho closes his eyes, getting lost in the privilege of being able to do this. It's so gratifying to be able to handle San’s beautiful body under him, fingers indenting the soft flesh of his hips as he holds him down. 

Yunho adds a little edge of teeth in the mix, gently tugging and relishing in the surprised little moan he gets. He moves to give the other side some love, his saliva cooling on the other reddened nipple. He can feel San’s hips trying to grind up into his stomach, trying to get some friction on the bulge in his restricting pants. 

Yunho pulls back, lips slick and eyes alight. San is staring down at him as well, chest heaving up and down, slick smirk replaced with a wild, exhilarated smile with too many teeth. Yunho wants to absolutely wreck him inside and out until he can’t do anything but moan and drool. These thoughts have been haunting his mind ever since he first saw San, but of course he had assumed that nothing would have come of it. Now that he’s being allowed to do just that, his brain is being knocked a little offline, devolving into his most feral, base desires. 

He kneels up, thighs still settled on San’s thinner legs, staring down at the pretty picture he’s made, darkening marks leading down San’s pale neck to his puffy, peaked nipples jutting out against the air. He’s being good, hands still held together above his head, lips bitten red but still staring at Yunho with a challenge, like he’s expecting more. 

Well, Yunho’s very happy to do that. He reaches down and does what he’s ached to do ever since first sight, wraps his hands all the way around the sides of San’s sculpted waist. fuck, his fingers nearly touch together. It’s not lost on him the way San’s breath hitches every time he picks him up or moves him around. 

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since that first time I saw you,” Yunho murmurs breathily, squeezing and lifting San’s pretty hips, just playing with him. 

“I know,” San says, a breathy giggle escaping him as Yunho’s thumbs swipe up to his ribs. “Me too, I was staring at your hands, oh-!” Yunho drags his hips up, fitting one thigh over him and moving San’s front over his thigh like he weighs nothing, grinding San’s trapped erection along the muscle of his thigh. 

“Oh, please! Yunho, fuck…” 

Yunho is rubbing San against him probably hard enough to hurt a bit, but San doesn’t stop him, back arched a couple inches off the ground and hips twitching helplessly under him. There’s already a tiny bit of drool slipping out the corner of his mouth, eyes hazy. He really is sensitive, Yunho could probably make him cum in his pants just like this. The thought is appealing, but he’s just a little bit too selfish. 

Lifting his thigh off to a disappointed whine from San, Yunho huffs out a laugh and gets up entirely. San lifts his head, a disarmingly sweet little pout on his lips at the interruption. Yunho leans down and presses a finger against that pout, smiling. His smile disappears as San, of course, sucks the finger into his mouth, staring up at him with pleading eyes to hurry up as he moves his tongue obscenely. Yunho’s cock twitches in his pants, cheeks heating. 

“I’m just getting lube,” he assures, forcing himself to stand up before he gives in to San’s expert temptation. San’s eyes are wide and bright in anticipation, settling back against the floor and closely watching Yunho as he heads over to the wall of supplies, searching for the natural oil they keep to help grease the cogs and gears sometimes. 

He returns with the little jar, stopping to yet again admire the view of the deadly assassin stretched out on the floor, looking like an ancient painting with the discarded fabric pooling around his arms and the defined torso exposed. He’s so beautiful, staring up expectantly at Yunho, sharp features softened with arousal. 

Yunho kneels down and can’t resist kissing San first, deep and slow, bruising up those pink lips. He grabs San’s belt, using it to roughly drag him closer before deftly unlacing it and throwing it away. Flexing his hands, he pulls down San’s pants in one long move, mouth watering at the bare skin of muscled thighs coming into view. He spends a moment running his hands up San’s sculpted calves, squeezing his thighs. 

There’s a wet patch in the front of his underwear, damp fabric clinging to the shape of his cock. Yunho leans down, mouths teasingly along the length of him and sucking right over the head through the fabric. San moans and his hands automatically fly down to clutch at Yunho’s head. They both pause, Yunho slowly raising his head. “I thought I told you to keep them up there.” 

It’s not like he can do anything to San, who could definitely overpower him in a second if he really wanted to, but San seems eager to play along with this little game, swallowing and slowly returning his arms to their previous position. Yunho smiles and pats his thigh, returning back to dragging his tongue achingly slowly over the tented fabric. San whines higher, grinding his hips up and trying to catch more of the infuriatingly not-enough friction. 

Yunho takes pity on him and yanks his underwear down as well, wasting no time in wrapping his hand around his dripping cock. He just holds his hand there, waiting until San growls under his breath and takes it upon himself to grind his hips up, fucking his cock through Yunho’s tight fist, slicking the way with his precome. It’s obvious how athletica and flexible is from the way he moves, bones like liquid as he thrusts up into the friction, eyes squeezed shut and sweat gathering on his bare chest. He looks fucking gorgeous, but then again, Yunho’s thought that every time and in every way he sees him. 

He keeps his hand there, tight and unmoving, making San work for it as he unscrews the oil jar with one hand. The oil is slick and thick, dripping through his fingers. Yunho takes his hand away just as San’s little moans are pitching higher, smiling fondly at the way he writhes and arches in frustration on the ground. San’s eyes are sharp when he flicks them back open, cheeks puffed out in an imitation of anger, but he doesn’t move his wrists from the spot above his head. 

Yunho scoots closer, grabbing one of San’s legs and propping it over his shoulder, spreading his legs and exposing his tight pink hole. San squeaks at the sudden manhandling, hips still twitching slightly into nothing for the ghost of the friction. Yunho reaches down and rubs slick fingers over him, taking his time in massaging the soft skin. He notices the way San has gone totally pliant again under his hands, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at Yunho. The eye contact feels too intense right now, but neither of them break it. They both live pretty intensely in all things, after all. Yunho isn’t going to shy away from this.

He dips his fingers into the oil again and achingly slowly slides one finger deep inside of San, pushing his thigh up against his chest and leaning down to muffle his sounds with his lips. San wraps his other leg around Yunho’s back to pull him closer, aggressively sucking his tongue into his mouth. 

Yunho groans and slides his finger out, shoving it back in hard up to the knuckles. The oil is incredibly slippery, making the slide so much easier as he fits in another finger. San feels impossibly tight around him, but he’s still clinging to him like a limpet, starting to push back against him in little increments. Yunho slows it down, focusing on exploring San’s smooth, hot insides, pausing when he rubs over a differently textured spot. 

San blinks his eyes open wide, making a muffled noise into Yunho’s mouth as he squirms. Yunho breaks the kiss and presses their foreheads together, watching the myriad of expressions passing over San’s face as he strokes directly against his prostate. He keeps his touch light just to watch San squirm, feeling the hot breath of his pants this close to him. 

San whines, trying to get Yunho to move, thrust into him, do anthing but torture feather-light but intense touch over his prostate until tears spring to the corners of his eyes. “Yunho…” San whines in the prettiest high, desperate voice, shifting and trying to move back onto his fingers. “Just fuck me already, please, I’ve been waiting so long!” 

Yunho shushes him gently, finally stopping teasing him from the inside only to slide back in with three fingers. This time he avoid’s Sans’ prostate, fucking his fingers in and out of his body with a dirty little squelch, watching attentively as his head tosses back and forth against the floor. Yunho drives him harder, pushes harder for a moment just to watch San’s reaction for a long moment before he lets up. Leaning back again, he slicks his hand in the oil and finally wraps a hand around his pulsing cock, groaning and hanging his head as he touches himself, reliving some of the burning, all encompassing desire he has right now. 

He shifts San’s limbs where he wants them, the assassin letting him easily, settling both of his legs over his shoulders and scooting forward until his erection is pressed fully up against San’s perineum and dragging against him. He grabs San’s arms from where he’s been obediently holding them, gently guiding them to his shoulders. 

San immediately takes advantage of the placement to dig his nails deep into the skin of Yunho’s back, the pain sending little shocks through his body. It only makes it feel better when he finally lines up his cock and starts sliding into San’s tight heat in one unyielding motion, barely giving him any time to adjust. Yunho keeps his eyes open to take in the way San’s eyes go wide and roll back in his head, muscles tensing. 

Yunho sets his own pace, not frantic but deep, dragging his hips out all the way before smoothly sheathing himself in all the way. San’s nails dig red lines down his back, voice breaking high in his throat as he holds on. Yunho can’t help but lean closer over him, San flexible enough that he can push his ankles all the way down around his head to sloppily kiss him, too much spit and teeth but perfect. 

Yunho breaks away to dig his teeth into San’s neck again, scraping against the sweet, salty skin. He’s definitely not going to last, overcome by the singular goal of devouring San alive in any way he can, filling him up and marking him all over. He draws back and admires his handiwork, the dark marks littering San’s pretty skin and flushed, sweaty cheeks, expression absolutely pornographic as the thick head of Yunho’s cock slides against his prostate. 

The gradual pace is good but his need is building, to just go hard and fast until he fills up San’s perfect body. Yunho moves his hands from San’s thighs to wrap back around his hips, pressing hard and lifting his body up off the floor, yanking him back onto him, spearing him wider on his thick cock. 

If anyone is awake on this entire floor they can probably hear them with the way San is nearly yelling, little cut-off sounds loud and high. He's writing again but Yunho is too firm and heavy on top of him to let him move, making him just stay there and take it. His nails are definitely close to drawing blood by now, the pain only fueling Yunho more, pressing bruises into San’s soft hips as he slams him back onto his cock, the filthy sounds of their skin connecting echoing through the room. 

San’s dripping cock is bouncing against his stomach, throbbing and untouched. Reluctantly removing one of his hands from San’s waist, Yunho presses the heel of his hand against the length of him, just on the side of too hard. San clenches around him, making Yunho groan and rut into him faster, short and hard thrusts that punch the breath out of San on every stroke. At this point he’s basically just crushing San’s cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind, mouth lolling open, face a picture of bliss as his hips twitch as much as they can, caught between the weight inside of him and outside. 

Yunho presses down harder, and there’s definitely has to be some pain at this point, but it just seems to spur San on, his back arching off the concrete floor as he finally spills into the sweaty space between them, insides clenching as his body shudders. After the feeling has passed Yunho doesn’t let up, pace stuttering as fucks desperately into that heat clinging around him, relishing in the sound of San’s pretty little oversensitized whimpers. 

With the feast of a sight laid out before him it doesn’t take long for him to cum, hands squeezing on San’s waist as he shoves in deep and fills him up, biting his lip at the wash of pleasure that shoots through him. After he’s finished, he slowly pulls out, watching avidly as his own cum dribbles out of San’s puffy rim. 

It's strange how quiet it is now, the sounds oft their combined panting filling up the silence. San’s arms fall limply against the floor, eyes closed and a lazy little smile spreading across his face as he comes down from the high. He looks so sinfully good like this, smug and satisfied. Yunho’s not quite done yet, though. 

He scoots back a little, gently lowering San’s long legs to the ground, propping them up slightly higher. He leans down, nosing along the inside of his thighs. San lazily opens his eyes, looking down and watching him. Yunho looks up and makes eye contact, waiting for San to stop him if he wants. San just stares expectantly, and they keep eye contact as Yunho runs the tip of his tongue along the very inside of his thigh, fitting himself close. 

He spreads San’s legs a little more, staring at his stretched pink hole for a second before he licks wide and flat over him. “O-oh!” San gasps, hands flying down to clutch in Yunho’s hair. Yunho doesn’t tell him off, just continues what he’s doing, licking up the taste of his own cum dribbling out. San’s limbs are twitching from the oversensitivity, making little lost noises as Yunho eats him out, fucking his tongue into his loose hole until he’s satisfied. 

Once he’s done he moves up higher and drags the flat of his tongue over San’s lightly defined abs, cleaning up the splatters of cum there. San’s eyes are hazy, staring at him like he’s surprised him. He reaches down and yanks Yunho up to face level, wasting no time in licking into his mouth, chasing the taste of the both of them combined. They lazily kiss for a long moment until San pulls back, pushing their foreheads together and looking right into his eyes. Yunho stares back, something wordlessly passing between them. 

San’s face is still clear and unguarded, such a contrast to the way he looks around others. “You’re heavy,” he murmurs, something almost fond in his voice.

Yunho laughs and rolls off of him, skin sweaty and sticky. Now that they’re out of the little bubble created of the two of them, he realizes how much of an absolute mess the room still is, a literal dead body stiffening in the corner. San catches what he’s looking at, turning and giggling. “Whoops. we’d better clean that up, huh?” 

Yunho nods and reluctantly stands up, wondering, hoping, if this is how his life is going to be from now on. 

**Author's Note:**

> cannot believe this ended up being my second longest fic ever but im proud of it hehe 
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/orca_mandaeru)


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